


High Tide Came and Brought You In

by canwefangirl



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-05-24
Packaged: 2018-03-13 05:08:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3368984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/canwefangirl/pseuds/canwefangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Modern AU. Emma and her friends come into Killian's bar one night, and he can't keep his eyes off her. Will she let her walls down enough to give him a chance? (Canon lines/scenes because it doesn't matter what universe these two are in).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_"Been losing grip on sinking ships,_

_you showed up just in time..."_

* * *

 Killian had been sneaking glances at her ever since she walked in; all green eyes and dimpled chin, completely oblivious to him standing behind the bar with his mouth hanging open, half in love with her already. He kept trying to concentrate on the task at hand, but his body betrayed him, eyes darting in her direction, ears straining to pick out her voice over the music and the people. Distracted, Killian almost dropped the glass he just finished drying by missing the counter.

“Bloody hell,” he growled.

“What’s with you tonight, Jones? If you’re going to start breaking stuff, I’d rather you out from behind my bar,” Granny warned.

She might look like someone’s sweet grandmother, but she was tough as nails and Killian’s best bartender. He relented and sat and waited for Robin with a glass of rum. Swirling the amber liquid around, Killian downed it in one gulp, pretending it wasn't to get the nerve to go over there and say something to her.

* * *

 Ruby and Victor were fighting. Again.

It was never serious - hell, they even seemed to enjoy it - but it left Emma sitting all by herself at their table. Mary Margaret and David had left early because the babysitter thought their son might have a fever - but not before Mary Margaret instructed Emma to “stay” and gave her a look that was not to be argued with. Sighing, she sipped her drink and took in her surroundings. They were at The Drunken Sailor, one of those places with craft beer, old-fashioned cocktails, and bar fare for the more sophisticated palate. It was cozy and immaculate, with rustic yet tasteful nautical décor. Ruby’s grandmother worked here - only Ruby would have a bartender for a grandmother - and she had been kind enough to come by with a free round when they first sat down. Unfortunately, it wasn't long after that the night began to unravel.

Bored, Emma checked to make sure Ruby was still occupied with Victor, then slyly pulled out her phone and opened the iReader app. With the day off and Henry at Neal’s, she had spent the afternoon re-reading  _Jane Eyre_  and was almost at the best part when Mary Margaret and Ruby coaxed her to come out with numerous calls and texts. Ruby promised she wouldn’t feel like a fifth wheel while Mary Margaret reminded her that she never knew when she might find her true love. How Mary Margaret didn’t realize that that would be incentive for Emma  _not_  to go out was beyond her. In her experience, books were the only safe place for love. And thankfully because  _Jane Eyre_  was a favorite of hers, she had it downloaded and could pick up right where she left off.

* * *

 “You could have anything here, and still you choose rum," Robin said in lieu of a greeting.

“I’m not quite as fancy as all this,” Killian explained, waving a hand absently around.

Robin raised an eyebrow, knowing full well how particular he had been about what color to paint the walls, but let it slide. Killian was the first friend he made after he arrived in Boston from England. Robin had heard his familiar accent ordering a drink from across a bar one lonely evening in the new city, so he went over and introduced himself. They'd been mates ever since.

Leaning on the counter, Robin ordered a beer from Granny and changed the subject. He thought Killian would get a kick out of one of Regina’s co-workers almost walking in on them when he stopped by her office for lunch today, but after a few noncommittal grunts, Robin could tell he wasn’t really listening. Killian's eyes kept shifting every so often to something behind Robin’s head until Robin became fed up and waved a hand in front of his face.

"Oi!" Killian protested, knocking his hand out of the way.

“You really know how to make a man feel important, mate."

Killian rolled his eyes. “Sorry, but your sex life with Regina doesn’t really interest me much.”

“It wasn’t so long ago when I had to hear all about you and Milah. And before that, you and everyone else. Just because you’re not getting any now…”

“Ah, here they bloody are,” Killian pointed to Belle and Will coming through the door.

“I see you boys started without us,” Belle said as she took the seat next to Killian.

“You know you can’t keep this man away from his rum,” Will reminded her, clapping Killian on the back.

While Will waited for their drinks, he started talking to Robin about some football match Killian couldn't care less about. His eyes automatically went searching for her golden hair, shining like a beacon in the dimly lit bar. She was sitting alone, intently reading something on her phone, a small frown forming on her face. He imagined himself going over there and asking what he could do for the chance to see her smile, when suddenly she did. A face splitting grin that she then tried to hide by biting her lower lip. Killian felt a warmth spread through him at the sight - but then something dawned on him. She was probably texting her boyfriend. Or worse, her husband. He remembered the two other couples she had been with earlier. She was clearly one half of the third couple, but something had kept her significant other from being able to meet them tonight. And now he was texting her and asking if she missed him. The jealously Killian felt surprised him. For Christ’s sake, he hadn't even spoken to the woman.

“So, who is she?” Belle interrupted his embarrassing inner monologue.

Killian blushed and scratched behind his ear. “What do you mean, lass?”

“Don’t ‘lass’ me. You look all moony.”

“Can’t keep your eyes off me devilishly handsome face, can you? I’ll have to tell Will, now that he’s my mate too and all.”

“Will you stop! You know I’ll just pester you till you spill.”

Killian sighed. It was true. Belle had become like a sister to him ever since they met at their book club, and she made sure to live up to the title. Belle was either annoying the bloody hell out of him one minute or bestowing wisdom he knew he'd never get from Robin or Will the next.

“Don’t I know it. Too bad I have nothing to spill,” he said as he got up, “I’m going to go check on the kitchen.”

The hallway to the kitchen was conveniently located by her table. Why Killian wanted to torture himself, he didn’t know, but the need to see if her eyes were really that green or just a figment of his clearly overactive imagination pushed him forward.

* * *

 “Really?”

Emma put her phone down to find Ruby standing in front of her with her hands on her hips.

“I - I, you” she threw her hands up, “you were off fighting with Victor!”

“Emma,” Ruby sighed, eyes softening into something Emma hated - pity, “you’re never going to find someone if you end up reading on your phone whenever you go out.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I don’t want to find someone! Maybe that is exactly what I want!” Emma felt her eyes prickling with tears, her anger dying as quickly as it had come, “Maybe I don’t want to be left again, or have someone die in my arms, or be taken advantage of.”

Ruby sat down next to her and squeezed her shoulder.

“Okay, Emma, okay. I’ll go get Victor. He was going to get some more drinks from Granny, but we can just go.”

Emma simply nodded.

* * *

 Killian had paused inside the hallway when he heard the brunette chastising the blonde for reading. Reading! So she wasn’t texting her boyfriend. Well, she could still have a boyfriend. But it was beyond that now. He had hope. Killian couldn’t help but walk back to the kitchen with a little extra swagger.

* * *

 Emma leaned against the wall in a daze while she waited for Ruby and Victor to return. She normally kept her emotions under lock and key, but something about the way Ruby looked at her...

"What was it that you were reading?"

Emma quickly prayed that accent wasn't attached to an even  _slightly_  decent looking man or else she was screwed. Against her better judgement, she looked up from the floor.

_Damnit._

What stood before her was much more than decent looking. More like illegal. His disheveled dark hair probably started out that morning perfectly coifed but looked like he had spent the day running his hands through it. Mischievous blue eyes stared at her from under thick, expressive brows and a perfectly straight nose led to full lips and enough scruff to make Emma briefly wonder what it'd feel like against her ear and down her neck. He was wearing a plaid shirt over a henley with the sleeves scrunched up, dark jeans, and sturdy leather boots. And a lot of jewelry; a silver necklace with charms that lay against the chest hair she couldn't help but notice, as well as a couple rings and a leather bracelet. Normally she had a rule about men who wore more jewelry than she did, but that accent let him get away with it. Yep, she confirmed, completely and totally screwed. Blinking rapidly, she found her voice.

"Excuse me?"

He smiled wide, like he knew the effect he was having on her. 

"What were you reading on your phone, love?"

Emma narrowed her eyes.

"Were you eavesdropping or something?” She felt some weird sense of relief at the thought of him being a creep, that way she would have no problem brushing him off.

"I was merely walking back to the kitchen and overheard," he motioned behind him.

"So you work here?" Emma crossed her arms, not sure if she believed him.

"Well, yes. I own the place."

"Oh. Sorry if I was ‘messing with the vibe’ or something.”

"You, love, can do whatever you want in my bar," he said as he moved closer, leading with his hips.

 _“Jane Eyre.”_  The words came out more forceful than she intended, as if they could block his advance.

He tilted his head in amusement, then brought his hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will,” he took away his hand, eyes twinkling, “why does that seem rather fitting?”

Emma snorted, trying desperately not to seem impressed. “You're something else, you know."

"As are you."

"Please, you couldn't handle it," Emma muttered, rolling her eyes for good measure.

"Perhaps you're the one who couldn't handle it," he shot back, popping the "t" at the end and moving closer still.

His eyes fixed her to the spot, her body torn between jumping on top of him and running in the other direction. After a beat, he glanced down to her lips, and that made the decision for her. Emma grabbed his shirt with both hands and hauled him to her. His lips were warm and soft, the kiss needy and insistent, that scruff of his creating a lovely friction as he opened her mouth further to lightly flick his tongue against hers. Their hands gripped each other’s hair, deepening the kiss till Emma could scarcely breathe. When they eventually broke apart, she had to hold onto his shirt to keep from swaying forward, the ground not quite solid beneath her. Slowly the music and hoots and hollers of everyone around them filtered back in. Emma saw Ruby over his shoulder, gaping.

“That was…” he breathed hot across her face, grabbing her attention again.

“A one time thing,” she finished, pushing him away. Emma turned quickly, telling him not to follow her. The last thing she heard before she was too far away to hear anything but her own riotous thoughts was a soft,  _“as you wish”._

* * *

 Killian was too stunned to run after her and he reckoned it wouldn’t help his cause much if he did. He brought his hand to his tingling lips and exhaled deeply, not really believing what just happened. He had been hoping for a name, if he was lucky, maybe even a number, but not that. Killian made his way back to the bar to see Belle with that smug look she got whenever she was right about something and Robin and Will wiggling their eyebrows. Ducking his head to scratch behind his ear, Killian shrugged, and ordered another round.

* * *

 Thankfully the hallway that lead to the kitchen and bathroom also had an exit that took Emma to an alleyway. She could grab a cab and text Ruby on her way back to her apartment.

“Emma, wait!”

She groaned and turned on her heel.

“Ruby, I’m just going to go home and -”

“Are you really going to pretend that didn’t just happen?”

“I’m drunk, it was a joke -”

“You’ve had two drinks and you were reading  _Jane Eyre_. You’re not drunk. And he seems too smitten for it to have been a joke. I wish you could've seen his face after you left.”

Emma shrugged and started walking backwards, “I'm sorry, Ruby. Tonight was a mistake. I’ll text you when I’m home.”

Then she practically ran in the other direction.

_"Emma!"_


	2. Chapter 2

_"Lantern burning, flickered in my mind for only you..."_

* * *

In the cab that night Emma had sworn she'd never go back that again - delicious cocktails and gourmet burgers be damned.

But sure enough, the next weekend Mary Margaret insisted that she get to see the man who her best friend locked lips with in only a matter of minutes. Emma was going to protest, but her stubbornness clamped her mouth shut and she ended up shrugging like she couldn't care less. So with Henry at a friend's for a sleepover, and David and Mary Margaret's son almost finished with his round of antibiotics and back in the hands of their ever vigilant babysitter, they made their way to The Drunken Sailor.

It did occur to her that he may not be there. His friends and him probably had other things to do than sit in the same bar every weekend, even if he did own it. She could be working herself up for no reason at all. Then Mary Margaret would just have to let it go and Emma could sweep it under the rug like everything else.

As luck would have it, he was already there leaning against the counter when Emma and the rest of her group walked in. She had tried to tell herself she was exaggerating his good looks in the days following The Kiss, but now she could see how foolish those efforts were. Everything about him burned brighter than she remembered; his eyes were bluer, teeth whiter, hair darker and thicker. And good God, did he have some rule that all of his shirts had to reveal a few inches of chest hair and tanned skin? Resigned to her fate, Emma decided it was time to get back some of her dignity by showing him how little he actually affected her. 

"Is that him?" Mary Margaret whisper yelled, excitedly slapping Emma's arm. She recognized him thanks to the detailed description Ruby had so kindly given her.

"Hey!" David protested from behind her.

"Oh, honey, you'll always be my prince charming, but wow, you said he has a British accent too?"

"Yes - now can you stop?" Emma was trying her best to ignore him as they walked by, defiantly lifting her chin, but she could feel his amused smirk at her back.

"Well, I don't like the looks of him," David muttered to no one in particular.

Ruby laughed. "Now when do you ever like the guys that are interested in Emma?"

The question hung awkwardly in the air as they took their seats at the table.

"Graham was a respectable officer of the law," Victor pointed out, "now Neal and Walsh on the other hand…"

Ruby elbowed him in the side. Emma could see where this conversation was headed and had to put a stop to it.

"Okay, okay, I'm going to go get drinks! What does everyone want?"

She realized her mistake a second too late when Ruby and Mary Margaret started nodding enthusiastically. Of course they wanted her to go up there and get their drinks, only several feet away from _him_. With her poker face firmly in place, she listened to what each of them wanted and headed towards the bar. Emma tried to settle the butterflies in her stomach by reciting their drink orders over and over again in her head until Granny finally came by.

She could feel when he noticed her and began to make his way over, each step ratcheting up her heart rate.

"What can I do for you, love?"

Emma didn't know what it was about this man that made her act like a thirteen year old girl, but she had to say, she was pretty impressed with her ability to stand there and act like he didn't exist. Even if it was incredibly immature.

"You know, most men would find your silence off putting, but I love a challenge."

His accent got thicker at the end, causing the butterflies in her stomach multiply. It was infuriating. "Granny already took my order, but thanks."

He chuckled. "You and I both know I didn't come over here just to get your drink order. Unless you mean to tell me you don't remember our last encounter, hm?"

Emma's cheeks burned as she continued to stare straight ahead. She just wanted to go back to before The Kiss. Back to when her love life didn't venture beyond the pages of her favorite books. 

He let out a sigh and moved closer. "I get it, love. You're afraid. Afraid to talk. To reveal yourself. To trust me, but - "

Mercifully, Granny came back and placed down a few cocktails and then went to the fridge to get a couple beers. Emma tried to pay, but she pushed her hand away.

"Your money is no good here," Granny explained as she sent a not so subtle wink in _his_ direction. Emma huffed in exasperation and was about to give him a piece of her mind, but he just continued, unconcerned with her annoyance.

"Well, I don't need you to share. You're something of an open book."

That caught her attention. She was pretty sure the walls she had built weren't see through. "Am I?"

"Quite."

Visions of their sudden, passionate kiss filtered in unbidden. _Damnit._ He smiled a little, like he knew exactly what she was thinking about and thus proving his point.

"But more on that in due course. All I require now is a name."

"A name…" Emma parroted, confused.

"Yes, love. Your name."

Right, because this was the complete stranger she had kissed. To rectify that, she gave in.

"Emma Swan."

"Emma _Swan_ ," he repeated, liking the way it felt to say, "Killian Jones, at your service." He finished with a small and Emma resisted the urge to roll her eyes. This guy was really too much and the only reason he got away with it was because he looked and talked like... _that_.

"Won't be necessary, buddy," David piped up from behind her. He came around, effectively blocking Killian. "I wanted to see if you needed help carrying those drinks."

"I'd be happy to lend her a hand, mate," Killian said over his shoulder.

David pivoted to face him. "I wasn't talking to you, mate."

"And here we go," Emma muttered under her breath.

"Killian! I see you've made some new friends!" Belle appeared in front of them, smile plastered on her face. She'd been watching the scene unfold and while she suspected the blonde who had kissed Killian last weekend was more interested than she was letting on, the protective big brother vibes the other guy was exuding could make the whole situation go south rather quickly. Killian had been the one to nudge Belle gently forward when it came to her and Will after her last relationship ended badly. The least she could do was help him along as well.

She stuck out her hand. "Belle."

"David," he grumbled, taking her hand though his eyes were over her head, continuing to stare down Killian.

She reached around and introduced herself to the blonde named Emma.

"So, Killian and I had been talking earlier of playing a round of darts. It'd be more fun in teams I think. Would you guys want to join?"

David's impossibly good manners took over and he ended up agreeing for the both of them, putting a bit of a snag in Emma's original plan.

* * *

 Killian had been there every night, from open till close, not wanting to miss her. He knew she'd be back, knew she had felt it too, so it was only a matter of when. Thankfully, he was a patient man, and for her he had all the time in the world. There was no real reason for his certainty, no proof beyond the feeling in his bones that this was it. Her presence in the back of the bar that night had been a pulsing, blinding light he couldn't ignore even if he wanted to, telling him _"here I am, here I am, what you've been waiting for."_

And that kiss. He'd never experienced anything like that kiss. The whole world was held in that kiss, filled with so much possibility and promise it nearly overwhelmed him. This was what wars were fought over and songs were written about and he sure as hell wasn't going to let it slip through his fingers. A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets, and Killian had just been floating through life, numb to everything, for far too long. But not anymore. He knew Milah would be proud.

When the blonde finally walked in that night with her friends, Killian was stunned all over again. He had spent the past few days recalling her beauty, but it seemed his memory couldn't do it justice. She strode right past him as if he wasn't there, adorable and lethal all at once, and he couldn't help but wonder about her past. In the few minutes they'd spent together, she was a bundle of mixed signals, her body saying one thing while her words said another. And he wanted to know why. So when he spotted her at the other end of the bar, he knew he had his chance.

* * *

 It started innocently enough. Both groups of friends had been introduced and joined together at one long table to watch. Emma and David on a team, Belle and Killian on another. But then Emma and David pulled ahead and apparently Killian didn't like to lose.

"Shoot straight, love," he whispered from behind her, his chest nearly touching her shoulder blade.

"I always shoot straight," she mumbled as the dart hit the bullseye. She was a cop, after all. But if he kept this up she wasn't going to be able to keep her wits about her for long. Emma figured two could play this game, so she brought over a couple shots while Belle and David took their turns.

She handed him one, brushing her fingers against his. "Some refreshments."

Killian seemed wary, but took the shot anyway.

Emma looked up at him from underneath her lashes and lowered her voice. "So, I have a confession to make…"

He smiled slowly. "Most women do."

She reached out to touch the charms on his necklace. "I haven't met many men who wear more jewelry than I do...do each of these have a story behind them?"

As Emma thumbed the silver pieces she purposefully let her fingers graze over the wiry hair that curled up the hollow space at the base of his neck between his collarbones. She saw him clench his jaw and swallow.

"You want to know all my secrets, but you've yet to tell me anything other than your name," he pointed out, voice strained.

"What fun would that be?" She quipped, taking a step back to cock her head at him. Emma wanted to keep this conversation in an area she was comfortable with - light and meaningless. 

Killian raised an eyebrow. "We're just two shipping passing in the night then?"

Emma reached for the two other shots and gave him one. "Passing closely, I hope."

"If I didn't know any better," he winced out after taking the shot, "I'd say you were trying to get me drunk. Which is usually my tactic."

"What's wrong Jones, can't hold your rum?"

His eyes searched hers and she suddenly remembered his comment about her being an open book. It made her feel vulnerable and uncomfortable, itching to run in the other direction like the last time. After a moment, his gaze softened into something mischievous.

"Not only can I hold it, but I can go over and hit that bull in the eye."

Relieved, she let out a snort and pushed him toward the dartboard.

Emma and David ended up winning, in part due to Killian blessedly leaving her be for the rest of the game. When Belle asked if anyone else wanted to play, Mary Margaret nearly jumped out of her chair and Emma immediately knew her game plan. If Mary Margaret teamed up with David and Killian still wanted to play, Emma was stuck with him. If she made a big show about wanting a different partner, she'd be too obvious. As payback, Emma suggested pool since Mary Margaret was excellent at darts and she wasn't going to let her have the upper hand in both games she was playing tonight.

* * *

 Killian was pleased, though a little surprised, with the turn the night had taken. He was truly in Belle's debt. Earlier at the bar Emma was doing everything in her power to brush him off, but then when they were playing darts she brazenly flirted with him. It was a complete one-eighty and Killian couldn't be sure if she was just messing with him, too caught up in the attention she was giving him at the time to care.. He looked across the pool table to see Emma listening to Mary Margaret while she leaned over to set the rack, her blonde hair falling in front of a reserved smirk at whatever she was being told. Again he felt the visceral need to be let in on her secrets.

"Killian Jones. I've heard that name before," David announced as he walked up to him, pool stick in hand.

“And where is that, mate?” He tried to keep his voice light, but he knew where this was going. Some people still recognized his name because of what happened to his brother.

“A friend of Mary Margaret’s that works at her school. She was upset about some Killian Jones who never called her back.”

Relieved, he reached for the chalk.“You have quite the memory, Dave. It’s been some time since I’ve taken home a teacher.”

He shot him a hard look and Killian sighed. "I've never told a woman I'd call her if I wasn't planning to. That's bad form."

"Oh, no, of course not," David's hands flew up, along with the pool stick, "But that doesn't mean you're not in the habit of taking women home who you never speak to again."

The last thing Killian needed was to be involved in a fight in his own bar, so he tried to remind himself that David was only trying to protect Emma. "Aye, you're right, mate."

David looked momentarily shocked by his admission. "Well, then I have to ask what your intentions are with my friend."

"Come off it. That's a little odd fashioned, even by my standards."

"Old fashioned? Didn't you just admit to taking women home and never speaking to them again?"

"That may be true, but I am still a gentleman. I've never made a promise I didn't intend to keep."

"So you just don't make any promises and think that nobody gets hurt then?"

Killian bowed his head. "No, mate. Which is why I was out of commission till your Emma walked through my door."

David remained silent and Killian decided to push his luck. "Whatever we become, it's up to her as much as me. But I promise you, I want this to go beyond tonight."

He nodded. "Just...she's been hurt before. I see the way she looks at you already and I had to say something."

Killian tried to keep the huge grin threatening to take over his face in check. "I understand."

"Hey, stop trying to get inside my teammate's head!" Mary Margaret yelled over to him.

"Wouldn't dream of it, lass!" Killian called back.

Emma walked around the pool table and handed him his pool stick. "Alright, Jones. Let's see what you've got."

* * *

 Afterwards, he went up to her and lifted his glass. "I don't mean to upset you, Emma, but we make quite a team."

She hated to admit it, but they did. They won all three rounds they played till David declared he was tired of getting his ass beat and they joined everyone else at the table. Emma was acutely aware of his presence sitting next to her; his thigh against hers, the way he smelled invading her senses every time he leaned forward. Their flirtation during darts still had her slightly on edge and this wasn't helping. Taking long sips of her drink just to do something, she eventually felt bolder. During a hilarious story involving Killian's brother, Liam, she joined in.

"Oh God, I can't believe there are two of you," she groaned, playfully rolling her eyes.

His friends stopped and stared at her. Emma looked to Killian, who dipped his head and scratched behind his ear.

"Well, see, there was two of us. But Liam died about five years ago."

Emma's eyes widened, not expecting those to be the words to come out his mouth. Robin quickly brought up the weather and the rest were kind enough to lament over the cold and whether it was really this freezing last year.

"I'm so sorry, really, I – "

"Don't feel bad, love, we've only just met. You didn't know."

Killian laid his hand on top of hers, his thumb tracing the delicate skin. Emma swore she could not only feel but _see_ the sparks flying off in all different directions from where they touched. She tore her gaze from their hands and found him watching her.

"I would like," he paused, Adam's apple bobbing up and down, "I would like very much if we could get to know each other better, though."

His face was so open and hopeful and painfully sincere that all Emma could do was give a little nod before she hid her smile by taking another drink.

* * *

When it’s almost closing time and Killian announced that he was going to help Granny clean up, she realized she didn't want the night to end.

“You know, I wouldn’t mind helping,” she told him when everyone was saying their goodbyes and putting on their coats. "You could send Granny home."

Killian stilled, then gave her a smile she hadn’t seen yet. It's goofy and too big and the effect rubs off on her.

“In exchange for one of your speciality grilled cheeses, of course...I’ve had my eye on the one with bacon since I was here last time.”

The way he looks at her made her think she could've asked for The Drunken Sailor itself and he would've signed it over, no problem.

"I think that can be arranged, love."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To clarify, Mary Margaret has not put two and two together about Killian and her friend. It was awhile ago and I think David only remembered because he was looking for a reason not to like him. It will come up in the next chapter though.


	3. Chapter 3

_"Skies drew darker,_

_currents swept you out again,_

_and you were just gone and gone,_

_gone and gone..."_

* * *

 Killian watched Emma pick up a few glasses left on a table, her hips swaying to the music playing softly throughout the empty bar. All the blood in his body rushed traitorously southward as she swept her hair over her shoulder, revealing a little silver earring and the elegant curve of her neck. He cursed inwardly and finished wiping down his table, moving onto to the next one she had cleared off. Killian couldn't believe that the woman who had occupied his every thought since the moment he saw her, the one who seemed to always have one foot out the door, was helping him clean up his bloody bar. It wasn't exactly how he planned on wooing the lass.

But Emma seemed more relaxed than she had been earlier in the evening, every so often shooting him a shy grin that made the tips of his ears burn. At first he hadn’t been sure he heard her right when she offered to stay behind and help him. He could read each emotion that flitted across her face, and had an inkling that her past hadn’t been any easy one - but still she took him by surprise. It was a little nerve-racking wondering what she'd do or say next, with his heart already hers’ to do with what she will. He tried to stop worrying and let himself get lost in the mindless work, humming along to the music.

 **"** You can sing.”

Killian whirled around to find her standing there biting her lip trying to reign in her laughter at scaring him. He must have started to do a little more than humming - not an unusual occurrence when he was closing up on his own.

“You should know better than to sneak up on a man with a dirty, wet dish towel,” he teased, slowly winding it up between his hands.

Emma’s eyes went wide and she put her arms out as she backed away. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He wiggled his eyebrows, twisting the towel tighter, but quickly gave up the act. She had him completely wrapped around her finger. “Aye, you’re right, I wouldn’t. I think that may be bad form for a second date.”

She put her hands on her hips. "A second date? Did I miss the first?”

Killian sidled up to her and cocked his head. "The first date was when you kissed me. Tonight is the second. After all, if I only counted proper dates I’m not sure I'd even get one.”

He tried not to squirm while Emma weighed his worth, green eyes searching his blue.

“Well, if you don't mind, I think maybe I'll hold out for a real date. You know, when we’re sitting at the table instead of cleaning it.”

Even with his pulse pounding in his ears, he made a show of contemplating her offer. “If you can behave yourself, we might have a deal. But no more sneaking up on me unawares.” Killian pointed a scolding finger at her.

“It’s not my fault you were too lost in the sound of your own voice to hear me come up behind you.”

Her eyes danced as she said it, and he decided then and there that teasing Emma was his favorite Emma so far. Killian glanced down at the towel and then up at her, one eyebrow raised. “Come again, love?”

Emma shrieked and darted behind the bar. Taking the soda gun out of it’s holder, she pointed it at him.

“Come any closer and I’ll shoot,” she announced in her best cop voice.

“Now, now. Let’s not be rash. You’ll be the one helping me clean up the mess.”

“You’re paying me in grilled cheese, which I have not received yet. I’m under no obligation to help.”

Killian slowly made his way towards the bar, eyes locked on hers. “You won’t.”

“Oh, I will,” she said, giving him a quick squirt square in the chest. He growled and with one quick motion he was over the bar and standing in front of her. His henley was sticking to him, a few droplets trailing down his neck. Suddenly she wasn’t sure if she had made the wisest decision. He was both too close and not close enough, Emma yet again split between running out the door and pushing him up against the counter. This time she figured she could be a bit more rational and went with option number three. Putting the soda gun down and moving away slightly, she blurted out the first thing she could think of.

“Uh, so...what made you want to open up a bar?”

Killian blinked at her for a moment, as if coming out of a dream, then scratched behind his ear.

“That is a bit of a long story, love,” he mumbled, turning around to put away some clean glasses.

“Perfect. I need some rest since you’ve been working me to the bone.” Emma went around the counter and sat down, purposefully getting more space between her and semi-wet Killian. Using both hands to prop up her chin, she patiently waited for him to begin.

He rolled his eyes at her and sighed. He could give her the easy answer, the one he told anyone else who asked. But maybe the only way to learn Emma's secrets was to tell her some of his own. Killian twirled the rings around his fingers trying to figure out where to start. Eventually he settled on the beginning.

“Well, my father was a fisherman and a drunk, as was his father before him, and his father before him,” he paused and checked to make sure she wanted him to continue, and was met with a small nod.

"He was never violent and even though he messed around on the side, he was discreet about it, which I guess was enough for my mother to stay. But my brother wanted to prove to our father that we could be better than he was, no matter how many times he liked to remind us that we’d be hauling fish from the sea like every man in his family. So Liam enlisted in the Royal Navy. I’d never seen my mother look so proud the day he left, but my father didn’t even bother to come home from the local pub to say goodbye. It was a few years later, when I was to join Liam, that we found out my mother was sick. And my father, the bastard, left to go out drinking and never came back. My mother said he loved her too much to stay and watch her suffer, but that’s not love. Not to me. So, Liam left the Navy and came home to help...after she passed, he decided we needed a fresh start. A true adventure.”

Emma’s heart was in her throat, already knowing how this story ended. She wondered which was worse - starting off with no family, or losing them all, one by one.

“We both ended up at Leroy's, the bar Granny used to work at. Liam was a manager and I was bartending, barely making ends meet, when he got it into his head that we should open our own bar. A new family business. I told him it was an odd choice, growing up with a drunk for a father, but he thought that was the beautiful irony of it. I think it was just a way for him to still captain his own ship.”

Killian tried to smile then, but she noticed it faltered and stopped, never meeting his eyes. She wanted to reach out and grab his hand, but she knew it wouldn't be enough.

"We both worked tirelessly toward that goal, saving every penny we could for years. We were about to go to the bank to take out a loan, when Liam was killed.”

She sucked in a breath, but said nothing and he was glad of it. "How” was usually the first thing out of anyone’s mouth when he told them, but Emma let it be up to him to continue, to relive that horrifying day or not. Killian decided to wait - detailing his brother’s murder probably wouldn’t set the right mood for the evening.

“It was actually Robin who convinced me to follow through with my brother’s dream, as sort of a tribute,” he finished, bringing it back to her original question.

Emma furrowed her brows. “Owning a bar isn’t your dream? Was going into the Navy your dream, or were you just following in your brother’s footsteps there as well?”

He scratched behind his ear. “You’re quite perceptive, love.”

“It’s my job to be. I’m a cop. Well, detective.” She got the promotion shortly after Graham died and she still didn't feel right using the title.

“Ah, no wonder you looked so comfortable with that soda gun in your hand.”

Emma gave him a withering look. “So, what would you be doing if it’d been completely up to you?”

Killian was about to argue that it had been up to him, but that wasn’t entirely true and she’d know it. “To be honest, I never had the chance to consider what I wanted. I enjoy a bit of adventure and honest, hard work, and both the Navy and running a bar seem to give you that in spades. I could’ve been happy doing either I guess.”

“But…”

He relented. “Books. I love books. Not quite sure where it would have led me, but something with books.”

“Well, that explains you quoting _Jane Eyre_.”

Killian smirked, leaning over the bar. “Did I impress you, love?”

She rolled her eyes. “It was a little pretentious…”

“Us Brits usually are. Is _Jane Eyre_ a favorite of yours’ then?”

“It is....Mary Margaret gave it to me. I didn’t really think it’d be my thing but…” Emma trailed off, surely editing herself. He didn’t want to admit it wounded him, but after telling her half his life story, it did. “I was never much of a reader, growing up in foster homes it just wasn't a priority. Now I know it could have been a welcome distraction.”

Killian quickly put two and two together. Emma was an orphan and like Jane Eyre had felt unwanted and unloved, but they both shared a quiet inner strength that helped them persevere.

“Aye, that was what it was for me as a lad growing up. A welcome distraction. I could be somewhere else entirely, living a completely different life. Only way I got through those years waiting to join Liam.”

Emma felt something grow between them as they held each other’s gaze. She blinked rapidly and looked away first. Grasping for something to say, she noticed the song that was playing.

“I love this one,” she admitted, pointing her finger to the air, "She's a guilty pleasure of mine."

Killian wanted to ask her more about her past, but he already understood the inherent difference between them. If she asked, he would tell her all and then some, while he would have to be patient, collecting his information about her in drips and drabs.

But he was always game to provide a bit of distraction to a lass in need, so he walked around the bar and held out his hand. Emma raised an eyebrow, but took it anyway.

“You know how to dance to this?”

“It’s not too difficult, if you have a partner who knows what he’s doing,” he assured her, voice low and intimate.

Any quip she may of had died on her lips and she let him lead her through the tables. As the music built they moved faster and faster and Emma had no clue how she was following along, but Killian made it effortless. When the song slowed down again, so did they, till they were hardly moving at all. Her eyes were trained on his chest, refusing to look up as all the air felt like it was sucked out of the room. Killian dropped their arms, letting their intertwined hands hang by their sides, the hard plane of his body still pressed up against her. When her eyes finally met his, tension coiled like a spring low in her stomach, he apprehension giving way to desire. Emma went up on her toes and lightly brushed her lips against his. He froze briefly, before reaching up and wrapping a lock of her hair around his fingers, matching her gentleness to the point of torture. On the kiss went, never succumbing to the urgency of their last, but the same passion simmered right under the surface, threatening to take over at any moment. She groaned as she felt the slide of his tongue and snaked her hands up underneath the bottom of his shirt to scratch the taut muscles of his back. That seemed to make Killian come to, because he grabbed her arms and using every bit of self-restraint he had, stepped away. Once he regained his composure, he lifted her chin up to look at him, finding her cheeks red with embarrassment.

“I think it’s time I made that grilled cheese I promised you.”

Emma grinned, feeling relieved. “I was starting to wonder if you’d remember to hold up your end of the bargain.”

“A gentlemen never makes a promise he can’t keep.”

“Well, then hop to it. I’m starving.”

He laughed. “You want to join me in the kitchen? Make sure I use enough cheese and bacon?”

“I’ll be there in a minute, I just want to check my phone. Make sure H - no one has tried to get ahold of me.”

A questioning look came on Killian’s face and for an agonizing second Emma thought he’d ask, but thankfully it was gone as quickly as it’d come.

“As you wish, love.”

Emma took out her phone and found she had several messages from Mary Margaret.

_Hey, how’s it going? TELL ME EVERYTHING._

_Realizing if things are going well you will probably be too busy to text me! Woops!_

_David just told me that we know Killian. Last year Tink had a thing with him, but then never heard from him again._

_But nevermind that, David spoke with him. I think he really likes you. Just be careful!_

_I shouldn’t have said anything. It was ONE girl, over a YEAR ago. It doesn’t mean he’s some kind of player. They just weren't meant to be._

_Please tell me you’re alive and you don’t hate me! David is threatening to take away my phone!_

Emma put her phone down and stared at bottles on the wall. She didn’t exactly care that Killian had slept with a friend of a friend of hers’ however long ago. It was a little awkward, yes, but those things happened. No, it was the feeling of loss that washed over her if she too never heard from him again after tonight that scared her. Emma was no stranger to one night stands - with a kid and her past it was all she could handle most of the time. She had started to let her guard down with him, though. For a little while tonight it had seemed like she was in one of her books. She reminded herself that it was always like that in the beginning, though. In real life there was rarely a happy ending to go along with it. That was why she had turned to books in the first place after Walsh was yet another disappointment; it satisfied a need inside her for something she knew reality would never give her.

Emma’s skin felt prickly and hot and the bar was too small. All she knew was she needed to leave now and be happy she had saved herself before it was too late this time. She gathered her stuff and rushed outside.

While she moved from one foot to the other as if the motion could make the cab she flagged down reach her quicker, she heard the door to The Drunken Sailor open behind her.

"What’re you doing?"

_Damnit._

The cab pulled up to the curb just as Killian came up to her. He put a hand on the door to keep her from opening it.

"What’re you doing?!”

He looked so confused and upset, it nearly made her change her mind. But no, Emma had been wrong before. She wouldn't let it happen again.

“I - I can’t…” She searched the sidewalk, trying to find the words to explain.

“Emma, look at me.”

She did, and what she saw solidified her decision. How much she already felt looking into his too blue eyes, it would ruin her for good if he let her down.

"I can't take the chance that I'm wrong about you,” Emma gave him a sad smile, “I’m sorry.”

And then she got in the cab before he could say anything else. When she saw Killian jogging behind the car, eventually stopping and fading fast in the rearview mirror, she hated herself a little bit.


	4. Chapter 4

_"In silent screams, in wildest dreams,_

_I never dreamed of this."_

* * *

 Emma thanked the delivery boy and closed the door with her foot. Putting the Chinese takeout down on the counter, she looked around her empty apartment. Neal had picked Henry up earlier for their bi-weekly sleepover and she already missed him. Ruby and Mary Margaret both offered to come over and keep her company, but they would just hound her about Killian and she still didn't want to talk about it. The past week had given Emma emotional whiplash. One minute she felt resolute about her decision, the next she ached with regret when she thought of the look on Killian’s face when she left him on the sidewalk. She went from being mortified that David had talked to Killian about her, to a little jealous of the idea of Tink and Killian together, to angry with herself for feeling so much after knowing him for so little. Eventually she’d arrive back at her original decision, only to begin the cycle all over again. It was exhausting.

In her most private moments though, she let herself admit the truth. That none of that really mattered, and she was simply using it all as an excuse. That if it wasn’t for David’s steel trap of a memory - something she thinks he uses mainly to keep inventory of the names of assholes Emma shouldn’t date - she would have found another reason to run. She wonders what it’d be like spending the night with Killian instead of the new book she picked up this afternoon when she was itching for a distraction. Now she saw the paperback sitting next to her boxes of Chinese food for what it was, a hollow and fruitless attempt to safely fill her life with someone else’s fictionalized one.

Emma sighed and began opening the boxes, ready to eat her feelings when she heard the doorbell ring behind her. She knew immediately who it was. As amazing as Yum Yum’s Chinese was, they always forgot the sweet sauce for the crab rangoons and she had become so fed up after the third time that she called and threatened to take her business elsewhere if it happened again. Clearly, they were afraid to lose her frequent orders, so now the delivery boy was in the habit of making two trips for her. One with her food, one with the sweet sauce they inevitably forgot. She yanked open the door, about to ask how hard it could possibly be to remember the damn sweet sauce, when she saw Killian standing there.

"Swan," he let out in a shaky breath.

Emma just stared at him, mouth hanging open slightly. He smiled sheepishly and handed her a little baggy which she recognized as Yum Yum’s. He must have intercepted the delivery boy.

"Are you stalking me?" she asked as she grabbed the bag from him.

Killian's face fell. "Well, I guess it could seem like that, love, but I - "

"I’m not your ‘love’. How did you find out where I lived?"

He jumped at the chance to explain himself. "Your friend - uh, Mary Margaret. I got Ruby’s number from Granny and Mary Margaret was with her. She grabbed the phone when she heard it was me. I swear, I just wanted your phone number so I could ask you why you had left so suddenly, but Mary Margaret had other ideas. She explained about Tink and then she told me what building you lived in, but not your apartment number, so I would have to prove myself in order to talk to you. Or rather, embarrass myself by knocking on every door asking if Emma Swan lived here. I heard New York City was bad, but I guess in Boston people don't know their neighbors either. Thankfully, I heard your voice down the hall when you opened up for the delivery boy. My nerves got the best of me though and I spent the past several minutes pacing outside your door, but when I saw the boy come back - well, I seized the opportunity.”

Emma groaned. “I’m going to have to have another talk with Mary Margaret about what she sees in romantic comedies not being applicable in real life…”

He shrugged, giving her a shy, hopeful grin. “I think the lass thought it’d be romantic.”

She snorted, like that one look didn’t make her weak in the knees and all her doubts begin to feel very far away.

“I apologized to Tink - “

“You didn’t,” Emma cut off.

“I did.”

“And how did that go?” she questioned, raising her eyebrow.

Killian winced. “Not very well, at first. Once she remembered who I was, she called me a narcissistic ass for thinking she’d still be hung up on me.”

“Understandable.”

“Yes, I see that now. But I felt bad that my...destructive choices may have hurt people. I just wanted to apologize to those I could.”

Emma didn’t have a sarcastic retort to that. “Why are you here, Killian?”

He took a step forward into her apartment. Deja vu struck again. “Because I don’t think Tink has anything to do with this. Not really. I think you’re running because you see a future here. A happy one.”

“What, with you? I’ve known you all of five minutes!” She tried to sound exasperated, but it didn’t ring true. What he said hit too close to home.

“Aye, that may be, but that’s all I needed to know there was something between us. And deep down Swan, you know it too.”

Emma became increasingly aware that they were having this conversation with the door wide open, for all her neighbors to hear. They'd get to know her real quick this way. She sighed and moved around him to shut the door. When she was back in front of him again, looking into his pleading blue eyes, she knew he’d see right through her if she lied.

"You’re right. It's not that I care that you slept with Tink. It just made me realize I'd be upset...if that happened with us...and that frightened me. That I could feel something for you already. That I already had expectations, because that meant I could be disappointed. And I have been disappointed. Over and over again. I'm starting to wonder if it's me. If I just chose the wrong guys. So seeing Mary Margaret's text, it felt like a sign, you know?”

Killian dipped his head for a moment, almost as if in defeat.

“I don’t intend to let you down, Emma,” he said finally. His voice was low and firm, making it sound like a vow. When his eyes mets hers, they held the same steely resolve.

And damnit, she believed him.

* * *

They sat on the floor of her living room, passing a bottle of wine between them and sharing the crab rangoons sitting out on her coffee table. He told her the parts of his story that he had left out. About Liam saying he’d close up Leroy’s so Killian could walk home a girl he’d been talking to all night. About how after he dropped her off, Killian realized he forgot his keys to their apartment, so he went back to the bar because he knew Liam would just be finishing up. About how it must have just happened, and how Killian found him, crumpled on the floor, the register wide open. About how his life became police stations and lawyers and courtrooms until the man who murdered his brother was found guilty and then there was just nothing. Such a gaping, empty hole of nothingness that he turned to drinking and sleeping with random women, anything to fill in the void. About how worried Robin was, so he suggested opening the bar like his brother had wanted, and while it made Killian wake up each morning, shower and eat, and to all the world look like a functioning human being, it turned out to be the perfect place to carry on with what he had been doing before. That is until Milah came and demanded a job. She was an artist and was staying in Boston for a few months to save enough money for her next adventure, Morocco. Their relationship was passionate and revealing. They loved each other, but just not enough for Milah to stay or Killian to follow her anywhere. They parted as friends, with her warning Killian of continuing down the path he had been on before they met. She knew he had an uncommonly good heart, with a deep capacity for love, and every time he turned to alcohol or fell into bed with someone he doesn’t care about would eat away at him till there was nothing left. _Find someone who makes you feel like I feel about Morocco,_ she had told him. Her words stayed with him, but he didn’t realize their truth until he resumed his old habits, stumbling into bed with Tink. It was purely physical, pale in comparison to the love him and Milah had, and only left him feeling worse. Unable to ignore her advice any longer, Killian threw himself into work and, to Robin’s great delight, a book club with Belle. And that was his life, until she walked into his bar.

“You know, that first night, I thought you had a boyfriend the way you were smiling at your phone. Little did I know then that a bloody boyfriend would’ve been much easier to get past than your walls,” he muttered before looking over at her and raising an eyebrow mischievously, testing the bounds of his teasing.

Emma punched him in the arm, hard, but couldn’t help laughing. It was true.

They both lay on the floor now, their feet propped up on the couch after agreeing they needed a breather before going back for seconds of lo mein. She knew it was her turn, so she nudged Killian to give her the bottle of wine propped up in his hand, and sat up to take a long drink. Laying back down, Emma grasped the bottle tightly as her eyes stared straight up at the ceiling while she told him. She told him about being shuffled from foster home to foster home until she decided to take her fate into her own hands and run away, stealing to survive. About meeting Neal and falling for him the only way a seventeen year old orphan runaway could, blindly and desperately. About Neal letting her take the fall for him and landing her in jail. About finding out she was pregnant. (She had held her breath after that, the silence stretching on until she turned her head to look at him. He simply gazed at her with a new depth of adoration.) About meeting Mary Margaret, David, and Ruby and how she couldn't of raised Henry and become a cop without them. About Graham, her partner, the first person she had opened her heart up to in years, dying in her arms before they could even truly begin. About accepting Neal back into her life for Henry's sake. About Walsh, sweet and quiet Walsh, who she had thought would be the safe choice, not being at all who she thought he was. About one lonely night when Henry was at Neal's, picking up some bodice ripping romance novel along with a pint of ice cream and finally finding a way to escape her past for a little.

They continued to talk through seconds of lo mein and another bottle of wine, passing stories between them like the fortune cookies they eventually cracked open, despite multiple grumblings of “I’m so stuffed” and “I couldn’t possibly”. Emma figured she'd want him to leave, uncomfortable with how much she had revealed, but instead she felt raw and needy, now intimately connected to him. She finally understood what Mr. Rochester meant when he said it was as if some string attached Jane and him together. She could practically reach out and tug on that string now.

As they uncorked the third bottle and Killian could no longer utter a sentence that didn’t contain the words “bloody hell” or “my love”, she knew he wasn’t going home tonight and found that suited her just fine.

* * *

Emma woke up at dawn. For a brief moment she panicked, not used to feeling a heavy arm draped over her side. _It’s just Killian,_ she reminded herself and that fear was replaced by a warm happiness she hadn’t known in some time. She thought about last night as she snuggled back closer into him and entwined their fingers, bringing his hand up to her chest and giving it a squeeze. Visions of making out like teenagers on her couch flashed before her eyes. She vaguely remembered them giggling as they partly undressed in her bedroom and her sternly telling him there would be no pillaging and plundering tonight. She might’ve even wagged her finger at him. Clear in her mind though was the moment he slipped into bed beside her, curling his body around her and lazily murmuring in her ear, “it’s about bloody time”. Emma had run away from him twice now and still he'd gone after her. She had known in her gut he was a good man and she had let Mary Margaret’s text be an excuse to save herself before she started falling for him. Because while he may not be Neal or Walsh, but he could be Graham, who she had just started to have feelings for only to have him be taken away too soon.

“You’re thinking far too much for so early in the morning, love.” His voice was low and rough with sleep and oh, the things it did to her.

Emma groaned and buried her head into the pillow, wiggling against him. She couldn’t live her life that way, thinking if they weren’t going to leave her, the only alternative would be that she’d lose them.

He chuckled against her shoulder before placing a kiss there, then moved up to place another on her neck. Her body reacted without her consent, back arching into him. He stilled behind her and Emma stopped breathing as she waited for his next move. When he finally reached her ear, taking the lobe between his teeth while his scruff tickled her neck, she let out a whimper she couldn’t even bother to be embarrassed by. Killian’s arm tightened his hold around her waist, pressing her closer to him, and she felt him hard against her bottom. Emma looked back at him, his hair messy, pupils blown wide, cheeks as flushed as hers felt.

“Do you want to…?” She trailed off, nerves creeping back in.

“What - really? Are you sure?” He propped himself up on his elbow, completely awake now.

Emma smirked at seeing him so flustered, and kissed him before nodding. “In the first drawer - “

But she didn't have to finish, as Killian was already rolling over and leaning off the bed to find the box of condoms in the side table. As he tugged off his t-shirt and pulled down his boxers to put on the condom, she slipped out of her top. Emma was about to unclasp her bra, when his hand stopped her.

“Please, let me.”

Killian’s eyes were soft again, a deep, unnamed emotion pouring out of them. She nodded and laid down on her side facing away to give him easier access to the clasp. Emma felt his hands tremble as he undid the hooks and she bit her lip, another wave of happiness washing over her. His hands moved lower and slowly slid down her underwear till she could toe them off.

“Like this?” Killian whispered against her ear from behind her, hand gripping her hip.

“Yes - please." She couldn’t say out loud that she just wanted him to hold her again like he had all night.

He groaned and buried his face in her neck as he filled her slowly. Emma pushed back against him, crying out when his hand reached her breast, thumbing the hardened peak. It was going to be over much too quickly, the feel and the sound of her already had Killian barely holding on.

“Emma, I can’t - fuck.”

He bit her shoulder and brought his hand down to where she needed him most. Thankfully, she was just as close, and moments later both their bodies shuddered and stilled. She turned around to face him and the wrecked look he gave her made her stomach swoop out from under her.

“You might want to…” She waved her hand vaguely in the direction of what she was alluding to.

Killian blinked dopely at her, then realizing what she meant, blushed.

“Right,” he scooted up to kiss the top of her head, “back in a moment, Swan.”

Emma admired his toned backside as he walked to the bathroom and sighed. She had it so bad and she no longer minded.

* * *

_Epilogue_

* * *

Several months later as they finished unloading the last of his boxes into her apartment, she turned to find him down on one knee.

“Marry me.”

“What - “

“I don’t even have a ring, I know that’s bad form. I’m sorry if it’s too soon, I thought I could hold off, but I just - I was looking at you, and I couldn’t bloody wait a moment longer. I know you and Henry are all I could ever want in this world.”

Silent tears were falling down Emma’s face, his words leaving her without any.

“Emma?”

She nodded, her face crumpling into a full blown sob as she came down to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Killian pulled away to wipe the tears from her cheeks.

“You alright there, love?” He raised his eyebrow, both concerned and amused.

Emma nodded again, but he could read her easily. Killian cocked his head to the side, his eyes sparkling with tears now too. “Don’t you know, Emma?" He bumped her nose with his. "It’s you. You’re my happy ending.”

She brought her forehead against his, both of them breathing in and out, giving each other the strength they needed until they couldn’t help smiling at each other.

“May I kiss you now, Swan?”

Emma let out a shaky laugh. “Soon to be Swan-Jones. But yes, you may.”

They fell to the floor with the force of his kiss and didn’t bother to move until they were sweaty and sated.

A year to the day of their first kiss they were married. Milah sent a Moroccan wedding blanket as a present, which Emma was now asleep underneath, hand protectively over her stomach. In the note that had come with it, she wrote, “I’m so glad we both found what we were looking for.”

So was Killian.


End file.
